PROCESS
There are so many choices to make: what clay will I use? what glazes? what temperature will I fire at? that the process can often feel overwhelming. But one thing I have always been sure about is that I want to make pots that not only look functional but are functional. This immediately places the studio ceramicist in a complex position as making pots that are intended for use place the pots in a different price bracket than, for example, pots that are purely decorative. The costs are the same and the labour invested in production is similar but the return is much less. If a customer is buying a bowl to use they are less willing to pay the sort of prices charged for purely decorative work. But to continue as a potter I have to be able to sell the work at a price which will cover my overheads. To that end I have decided to focus on two ranges: the red earthenware/ green glaze ware and a unglazed slip and transfer decorated range inspired by the kind of painted and worn driftwood which washes up on the beaches around East Lothian.
All the pots are thrown on an electric wheel. I started out using a kick wheel similar to the one I trained on twenty-five years ago but found I just did not have the stamina for a day of kicking. Not anymore. The wheel is quite low to the ground so that when making tall pots I can stand and still keep a steady hand – a steady hand being the magic ingredient to throwing. Even though I spend at least three days a week throwing pots on a wheel, and have done for the last two years, it still surprises me that it can easily go so wrong. When I took it up again, after twenty-five years of absention, muscle memory helped me through the beginning stages but all it takes is a bad habit or two and everything goes wobbly.
When I begin I decide what I am going to make, be it mugs, bowls or jars, and prepare clay into balls weighed to roughly the same amount. I don’t try too hard to make every mug the same because I don’t see the value it trying to do what a machine can do better. These pots are as much about the hand-made process as they are about the finished result. I throw each pot on a wooden bat which sits on the wheel head so that when the pot has been thrown I can lift it off and leave it to dry on the bat. But there is still much that can go wrong. It is crucial to make the handles and attach them when the clay is not to dry and not too wet. Too wet and the shape will be lost, too dry and the join will crack because the handle and the mug will be drying, and shrinking as they lose moisture, at a different rate. Cracking is the bane of my existence. Bowls need to be turned which means that you take them off the bat, turn them upside down and remove the excess clay with a turning tool. Sometimes you also give the bowl a foot. Again the clay can neither be too hard or too wet for this to succeed. I try to make my bowls as light as I can which means I often turn too far and cut through the bottom. At least at this stage the clay can be reconstituted by adding water and reused so my mistakes don’t waste any clay.
Before the pots are completely dry I do slip decoration if that is the range I am working on. Then it is vital that the pots are completely dry before you put them in the kiln for their first firing. If there is still some moisture in the clay the pot will explode in the kiln (I won’t even begin to try and explain the science behind that problem!). The first firing is called a bisque or biscuit firing and it changes the state of the pot. Once fired to 1000 degrees the pot is no longer clay but ceramic. It cannot be reconstituted by adding water but it is still porous enough to absorb the moisture from a glaze mixture which is the process that ensures the glaze adheres to the pot. Different clays mature at a different temperature and I fire the red earthenware glazed work at 1120 degrees at which point it is vitrified. I am still experimenting with temperatures for the beachy range and plan to try firing this higher so that I can leave the slip decoration unglazed.
Each firing takes about three days. The kiln takes about a day and a half to get to temperature then about a day and a half too cool down enough to open. It takes a lot of patience as you desperately want to know how the pots turn out but if you open the kiln too early the pots will be at risk of thermal shock, as will the kiln which is an expensive piece of kit and needs to be treated with care.
If you would like to see this process in action you are welcome to come down to the potter and see for yourselves. I try to be there thursday to Sunday 10-4 although there are other sides the business (ie paperwork, delivery, selling etc) that take me out of the studio now and then. If I’m not around however there is a fantastic farm shop which should not be missed, selling all sorts of delicious gourmet food and locally produced vegetables, meat and fish. And some of my pots, of course!
